Put Your Spikes In
by GirlonaBridge
Summary: A "missing scene" fic for 4x7 - after Gill, Julie and Janet's conversation in Gill's office, Gill is upset. Julie tracks her down and fuzziness and angst ensues.


_'And if you think I'm going to give anyone the satisfaction of falling to pieces five minutes before I retire, or after, or ever, then you don't know me.'_

_'Don't be daft of course we do. Which is why you need to put your spikes in and listen and stop being such a stubborn cow.'_

_..._

As soon as she can, Gill escapes her office and makes a break for the Ladies. Julie drops her head and sighs.

'I'll just...' Janet steps toward the door.

'Leave her.' Julie raises her head. Janet hovers.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah.' Julie pushes herself up off the desk where she has been leaning, suddenly towering over Janet. 'Yeah, I've got this.' She pats Janet's arm as she passes her then swings out of the door. A moment later, Janet sees her stop and swivel on the spot, put her head back round the door frame.

'Where's the toilets in this place?'

.

When Julie pushes open the door she finds Gill pacing the tiny space . She leaps round to face the intrusion, arms folding across her body. When she sees who it is, she throws her hands up.

'How... no don't come near me... how could you speak to me like that? In front of Janet.'

'Okay.' Julie rethinks her first instinct to wrap Gill in a hug, and pauses.

'It was totally unprofessional.'

'Gill...'

'In front of a junior officer.'

'Gill...'

'Talking to me like I was... like a...'

'Like your best friend? Your girlfriend.'

Gill jerks backwards, glares at Julie like she's grown two nasty looking heads with five rows of teeth each. She takes a juddering breath. Bites her lip. When she speaks her voice is calm but dead-edged with steel.

'Will you do me the professional courtesy of keeping your bloody voice down? Or are you trying to drive me over fucking edge?'

Julie sees then the tears starting in her eyes, the fine tremor that makes her birdlike figure suddenly seem frail. She longs to take her in her arms, takes a step forward instinctively. But Gill twitches away from her so Julie holds her hands up, backs off. She leans against the sink instead, carefully lowering herself as much as possible until Gill is the one standing taller. She waits. After a minute, Gill half turns away from her, sniffs.

'Sorry.' Her voice is thick with half-broke tears. Julie forces herself to stay calm, to sound natural.

'You know, Janet has known you nearly as long as I have. I don't think professionalism is really... well it doesn't always have to apply. Strictly.'

'But still...' Gill sniffs again. She's losing the battle against the tears which are seeping out now.

'It's just so humiliating.'

'She's worried about you,' Julie says gently.

'I know.' Gill cants her chin up. 'Hate that.' She looks so fierce and pitiful, needy and standoffish, all at the same time that Julie can't help the fondness that swells in her chest and melts her face into a smile. That's her Gill.

'You dozy cow.'

'Ha.' Gill barks a laugh. Then her face turns serious. 'I just can't cope with anything else at the minute slap. I know, you're very confident and you've always been open and God knows where you've got the strength from at times, I really do admire you. And I would like to be like that. But...' She drops her eyes, avoiding Julie's penetrating narrowed gaze. 'But not right now. I... can't.'

It takes her a moment to raise her head and meet Julie's eyes again and Julie waits for that, holds the look, tries to work out how to handle this fragile situation and the sick tightening in her stomach. When she speaks, she shrugs, as if she could brush off the pain and worry that lightly.

'Do yo ever think you might feel better for it? Being honest. At least with some people closest to you.' She spreads her palms in front of her. 'Just a suggestion. I'm not forcing you.'

Gill tightens her arms around herself, steps right back to the opposite wall.

'I don't know. I can't, not right now. I just know... The thought of any more shit, even the thought of telling Janet about...' She waves one arm between the two of them and Julie compulsively fills in the blank.

'Us.'

'Yeah... ' Julie can see Gill trying to say it, then glancing at the door and losing her nerve. Gill curls the fingertips of her free hand against her lips, relic of a very old habit of nail baiting that she broke nearly thirty years ago. It's a sign of her soaring stress levels that Julie recognises from only twice in the length of their friendship. Once when Sammy was sick as a baby, and around the time of the divorce when Gill had left the Crime Faculty and her whole life turned inside out.

'I'm not pressuring you love.'

And maybe Gill sees the hurt shadowing her eyes, because she takes a half step forward, waves her hand toward Julie again. And she is serious, determined.

'You are the best thing in my life at the moment. It's just the thought of telling anyone anything makes me want to down a litre bottle of gin.'

Julie winces, aware that this isn't the hyperbole it once would have been.

'And frankly,' Gill continues, 'there's enough things in life making me want to do that as it is without me creating more.'

She is just outside Julie's reach now and she's still holding herself stiff but there is a pleading in the line of her jaw, the shade of her eyes. Julie sighs her acceptance.

'All right, leave that for now.' Gill relaxes one tenth of a degree. 'But we do need to talk about this other thing, the drinking. Properly. Outside of here.'

Gill nods.

'And.' Julie opens her arms slightly, motioning Gill to step in so Julie can place her hands on Gill's upper arms, hold her there. 'Promise me. No more drinking at work.' Gill's mouth twitches.

'I will take you out, every night if you want that, or need it.' Julie ducks slightly to keep eye contact. 'Or I'll stay in and get pissed with you. If that will help. But not at work. Ok?' Her eyebrows raise and there is real worry in her face as she wonders if Gill can make this promise.

Gill stares at her. Her lip quirks and one eyebrow arches and all at once she looks like DCI Murray again.

'Detective Superintendent, I don't think that's what you're supposed to say in these...'

'In these situations. No. It's not exactly standard policy. And if anyone higher up the food chain gets wind, my head'll be for it. But you're not exactly standard anything, are you?' Although she couldn't have believed it a minute ago, Julie is smiling, ruefully, finishing Gill's sentences. Gill's drops her head again, raises it with glistening eyes.

'You shouldn't have to do this.'

Julie draws her closer then, opening her arms fully to envelop Gill in a hug. Bodies creasing into each other. Gill's arms inside Julie's jacket, around her waist. Her face tucked in to Julie's neck. Julie's cheek pressed against Gill's hair. And Julie's arms, firm and warm, wrapping right across Gill's back, holding her.

'Only temporary.' Julie mutters and Gill can feel her breath tickle her scalp. 'And we do have to talk. Properly.' It's almost a whisper. 'At home.'

Gill nods without lifting her head, the movement making her nuzzle deeper into the warm spot where Julie's neck curves into her shoulder.

Then Julie is shifting her weight, sliding her hands up Gill's back and through the ends of her hair to cup her face and kissing her oh so tenderly. It's all sweet-soft brushes of lips, mouths melting open to each other, just an edge of something that says that they need this, both of them.

Gill breaks it. But only by an inch or two. Just enough to check the door.

'What if someone walks in?' She is calmer though, able to hold that thought without leaping for the far corner.

'It's all right.' Julie strokes the hair back from Gill's face. 'I left Janet on guard.'

Gill gapes at her. 'You what?!'

Julie chuckles, looping her arms round Gill's waist, even as Gill shakes her head, only half believing.

'Are you trying to put a neon sign over our heads?'

'She thinks I'm just wiping your tears, patting you on the back. Girl stuff.' Julie cocks her head to one side, flicking her hair slightly. 'Which is true. More or less.'

'Janet's not stupid.' Gill moves away a little and starts pulling her suit back into immaculate order.

Julie shrugs. 'Janet can keep her mouth shut.'

'Hmm.' Gill leans over the sink beside Julie, squinting critically at her reflection. 'I thought that. Until yesterday.'

'Gill.' There's a gentle warning in Julie's tone. 'She's worried. Her and Rachel. They're a good team, good to have around you.' Julie twists round so that she is leaning forward against the sink as well, watching Gill's face in the mirror, searching out eye contact. She is just a little taller in this position, her right shoulder leaning in to Gill's left, gentle pressure that is grounding, protective.

Gill quirks her lips in what might be the first hint of a smile. Julie's whole face softens at the sight of it and Gill takes heart from that. She swipes a finger carefully under her eyes to catch mascara smudge, digs in her pocket for her lipstick and applies it with a steady hand. Julie stays where she is, enjoying watching Gill's face work, her studied concentration. Gill turns to her when she has finished with a will-I-do? tilt and Julie stands to examine her, nods.

'Chin up.' She leans forward to peck softly at Gill's lips, thrills privately as Gill tugs the kiss out slightly longer.

Gill is turning for the door already when the next question escapes out of her mouth without even consulting her brain.

'This retirement thing, do you really want to?'

Gill looks back at her, stands firm.

'Yeah.' There's no doubt there now, no wobbling.

'It's not just because of the drinking? Because we can sort something out, there are things that can...' Julie sketches an indescribable kind of shrug, '...help.'

Gill opens her mouth to protest so she rushes on.

'Not counselling.' Julie holds up her hands to acknowledge the uselessness of that suggestion. 'But... something.'

'It's not that.' Gill is implacable. But Julie has to check, because Gill Murray can put up a better front than anybody else she knows.

'You're not running away.'

'No.' Gill steps forward. There's a light in her eyes as she speaks. 'No. I have given thirty years to this job. I've been all over the country with it, done everything, everything from herding drunks to banging up serial killers. I've put more twisted scumbags behind bars than I care to remember. And I have seen everything.'

'So, now?' Julie looks doubtful. Gill stands before her, tiny but solid.

'I'm tired,' she says simply. 'I've seen enough. I... I always said I'd do my thirty years and go, get out of the big chair. And yes, maybe, if it hadn't been for Helen Bartlett, maybe I would have thought about staying on. But there's no way we can know that.' Her eyes go blank for a moment, then she catches herself.

'And who's to say it would been a good thing if I had stayed on? Don't want them wheeling me round the station in a bath-chair when I'm ninety. I'll leave that to you.'

'Ha. You can push it then you cheeky cow.' It's easy banter and it's easy to fall back into when the teasing glints in Gill's eye like that.

'Your fat arse? No chance.' And maybe it's too easy. But at least it puts their work faces back on straight and Gill heads out the door with her head up, back straight. And Julie can push her worries down to just below the level of overpowering.

.

Back in the office, Janet catches Julie's eye. Mindful of the windows and open door of Gill's inner office, Julie only pauses by Janet's desk for a second. There's another one who is looking the worse for wear, and no wonder after everything that has happened today. Julie tries for a reassuring smile though she doesn't think it carries up to her eyes.

'Just keep an eye on her for me, eh?'


End file.
